


Want to be Wanted

by Chedappa



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chedappa/pseuds/Chedappa
Summary: Jesse has found himself alone for Christmas like he has most of his life. Spending so much time alone makes a man start to question himself and his worth to those he considers close. Maybe he is just the kind of man who will never know what it's like to be loved.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	Want to be Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So if you've wondered why I haven't updated either [So Contagiously](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783496) or [ Fairest of them All ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970413) it's because I've been a depressed sack of shit lately. This was mostly just to help get out some of the thoughts bogging me down but with that Overwatch flare/

Jesse sighs to himself as he leaves the Watchpoint halls to find a drinking spot for the night. The near tropical weather of Gibraltar doesn’t even help aid in the illusion of it being near Christmas which just adds to the proverbial cloud of sadness hanging around the gunslinger’s head. He supposes that this is just what he deserves for always looking forward to the holiday without a real purpose to feel so.

Finally settling into a nice spot, the cowboy looks out into the starry sky over the now dark waters close to the base. This spot up on top of a comms link tower was one of the first he and Hanzo shared to drink together, the start of their friendship. Normally, Jesse doesn’t like coming up here alone because of that fact. His friendship with the archer has developed so well that it feels odd to be here without him by his side. Hanzo is his best friend after all as well as the man he loves… though the chances of that being reciprocated on either end are low. The cowboy grimaces to himself and starts drinking from his large whiskey handle to ease the sting a little.

So what pray tell brings Jesse up to this tucked away spot alone? A conglomeration of various weights on his heart that he wouldn’t wish to bother anyone with regardless of whether or not anyone were even still on base. Jesse supposes that is one small kindness the world granted him this year. He can sufficiently drown his sorrows in alcohol without dragging anyone else down with him.

It’s December 24th, and Jesse is alone at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

The gunslinger can only suppose that it is fair he is alone now anyways. He never really fit in anywhere. Not at home with his family, not in Deadlock with Ashe and the rest, not in Blackwatch even though he thought Reyes had been fond of him--how wrong he turned out be--certainly not when on the run after the fall of Overwatch, and apparently not now during the recall. He should have known he wouldn’t when it took him over a year after the recall to officially rejoin the group. Everyone was overjoyed to take Echo in his stead--not that he’s complaining since he is the one who sent her here after all but still. Jesse allowed himself to be deluded over his three years with the recalled Overwatch into thinking he belonged, like he was wanted.

It was the numerous late-night streams and game/movie nights run by Hana that allowed him to think the team was comfortable around him. It was the jam sessions with Lucio and K-drama marathons with Hana and Daehyun that made him think the younger agents had accepted him. It was the weekly sparring with Genji and subsequent visits to the medbay with Angela that eased him into a sense of camaraderie. It was letting Torbjörn and Winston tinker with his arm one too many times that made him feel appreciated. It was the impromptu late-night pancakes with Lena and Mei that deceived him into believing perhaps he is a good person after all. It was the strength training with Zarya, Reinhardt, and Brigitte that convinced him there was more for him here in Gibraltar. It was the slow, gentle prodding, the many arguments, the first smile, the first laugh, the many shootouts, the saving of each other’s lives on more than one occasion, the numerous drinks, secrets, and skeletons in the closet shared that deceived him into hoping he could have a close relationship with anyone but namely with Hanzo Shimada, but that’s all his time here apparently was.

A ruse delivered in the most deliciously sweet and warm way to make him feel like he belongs. Yet here he is, alone, drinking with no semblance of that warmth anywhere. It is actually the same reason he loves the winter holidays. Regardless of whatever religion those around him, everyone believed in the same basic concept, the concept of togetherness with your loved ones. Because of this, every year Jesse looks forward to Christmas like a child, but it’s not the presents he wants, it’s feeling of belonging, of being near loved ones he wants the most yet is denied every year.

Jesse isn’t quite sure why he thought this year would be any different than the other 40 he’s experienced, but he did. He was getting excited after the Watchpoint’s Thanksgiving banquet--apparently a tradition that was asked for by American agents back in the heyday of Overwatch that never fell away--only to have that excitement turn to anguish the closer Christmas came.

Hana and Daehyun are back in Busan for the holidays, eager to reunite with old teammates not seen in a few months, so it’s hard for Jesse to be anything but happy for them. Lucio as well is back in Rio for a holiday charity concert in his hometown, and Jesse couldn’t be prouder. Winston and Lena are in London to spend Christmas with Emily too, apparently the previous year they had come to the Watchpoint, so now it was Winston’s turn to visit them. Angela, Reinhardt, Brigitte, and Torbjörn all went to the Lindholm’s as they do every year, Ingrid no doubt preparing a special feast for all of them. Jesse just smiled and waved them off, unsurprised at the lack of trust between them for an invitation to have not been sent his way. Zarya apparently is taking Mei around Europe for a Christmas travel date which Jesse is more than happy to step back and give the happy couple their alone time. And of course, Hanzo is the very first person he had asked after his Christmas plans, but the answer surprised him.

_ “So Hanzo,” Jesse started, trying not to let his nerves show in the warm timber of his voice. The archer in question turned his head to show he was listening but kept his eye on the target in front of him, bow drawn taught. “What’re your plans for Christmas comin’ up?” The arrow flies and just barely misses the bullseye. Jesse swallows the lump in his throat. Hanzo Shimada never misses, so the answer must be something bad. _

_ “Well… I was planning on returning to Japan… with Genji. We will not be going near Hanamura but rather just around Tokyo. We were never given the luxury to just… enjoy the holidays, and it has come to my attention that I haven’t-... That I have barely spent any quality time with my brother since coming here, so…” Hanzo nearly stumbles over his words. The archer’s brow was furrowed in that way that expresses his worry and his eyes flitter about Jesse’s form as if too afraid to look him in the eye. _

_ Inside, Jesse’s heart breaks a little. Of course he wasn’t important enough to spend Christmas with Hanzo. He should have known that before he went and made everything so awkward, and now all he has to show for this grand catastrophe is the obvious pity Hanzo feels for leaving Jesse out of his plans. But along with the sadness there is a great pride and genuine happiness for the archer. It has been a long struggle--Hanzo could barely even look at Genji when he first arrived, and by the time Jesse joined the crew a few months later, they had yet progressed to the point where they could hold a normal conversation--and the fact that Hanzo is spending Christmas with his family, let alone going on a vacation with Genji is incredible progress and speaks mounds towards his current mental and emotional state. How could Jesse possibly be angry or sad when this is how Hanzo is choosing to spend his time? _

_ The cowboy chuckles and holds up a hand to shrug off Hanzo’s worry. “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, partner. I’m glad you ‘n Genji are gonna go run off ‘n do somethin’. You deserve it.” At those three words, Hanzo relaxes immediately and looks rather touched that someone recognizes his progress. “I was just wonderin’ ‘cause the last three years you ‘n I haven’t really made plans for the holidays and if ya hadn’t yet, we could’ve done somethin’. I still got other options, so don’t you worry ‘bout little ol’ me.”  _

Hanzo’s wry smile made Jesse feel better in the moment, but part of him wonders if things might be different currently if he had decided to be just a little bit selfish. Knowing that this is a time to share with family, friends, and loved ones though… Jesse couldn’t possibly tear anyone away from their prior plans. Having plans means that you are sharing your time with the ones you want to, and he just has to accept that he isn’t loved by any. Obviously no one holds him in high regard if he’s alone at this time as that means no one wanted to include him in their plans. Jesse is even certain that if everyone’s plans fell through, their secondary plans still wouldn’t include him.

He’s nobody’s first choice.

Or even second or third choice. Hell, Jesse isn’t even his own first choice. The years have done a number on him in that regard. Being treated like scum by so many in Deadlock Gorge, never being truly accepted by Overwatch and Blackwatch agents alike, having so many dark crimes pinned against him yet believed by the masses due to the wicked and cruel man he was molded to become has ensured that Jesse McCree is no longer a man who has a place beside any respectable person in the world. How could he believe himself to be anything else than what he has been treated as his whole life?

Jesse blinks drunkenly at the now empty bottle of whiskey and silently laments the end of a good drink. The cowboy sits outside a while longer, the warm night air not really cooling or soothing him but enveloping him all the same. It’s only when his butt starts to hurt from the hard metal of the tower that he starts to stumble his way down the tower stairs back into the base of Gibraltar. Before he can enter the dormitory, though, a quiet mewling sound demands his attention.

Jesse wanders over towards a bush near the rocky walls of the mountain the Watchpoint is carved into and the small sounds grow clearer but not necessarily louder. Whatever is producing the sound is more whimpering, giving of a quiet noise as though it actually wishes to remain unheard. Eventually, Jesse stands right next to the bush, crouched in an awkward and terribly unbalanced way to look around the leaves to find the source of this noise.

There, hidden towards the wall, sit a grey kitten, shaking and trembling as if the temperature was freezing. Jesse blinks then surges into action, dropping low to not startle the poor thing. He starts whispering gentle words and reaching out towards the kitten slowly. When it startles at his progress, he freezes, keeping his hand still before it calms and he proceeds. This continues for a few moments before the cowboy can finally touch the lost kitten. He starts with rubbing a single finger along its side for a moment before it finally trusts Jesse enough to step forward. Now, with a baby kitten missing one eye, a few cuts on its body, and shaking from either malnutrition or an illness, he wanders back inside.

“Athena, you know anythin’ on how to care for kittens?” Jesse asks, taking the shaking bundle of fur to the medical bay where he’d find most what he needs.

_ Contrary to popular belief, cats cannot drink the same milk humans do when they become adults. For now it should be fine, but I would suggest proceeding with caution. Since there is no cat food on base, I would suggest feeding the kitten some fish or scrambled eggs. _

“Thanks, doll. You’re the best. Ya wouldn’t happen to know what’s wrong with this little guy would ya?” Jesse asks, setting the kitten down on a steel table in Angela’s lab. The poor kitten mewls again, as if upset it has been let down. Turning around, he begins to gather a few materials while Athena speaks again.

_ Not particularly. It has not been uploaded into my biometrics data yet. However, my heat sensors indicate it is warmer than the average kitten, so it might have a fever. _

Jesse groans. That’s what he was afraid of. Malnutrition is easy to handle without much in the way of proper equipment. A fever is harder without medicine. Eventually his hands are filled with everything he wanted: a small metal dish, a few alcohol swabs, a dropper, and two hand towels. He turns back to find the kitten sitting upright and inspecting its surroundings the best it can with one eye. Given its poor eyesight and how light it is, Jesse guesses the kitten is only two months old at best. It’s a shame to lose an eye so early in life. 

Taking the dropper, Jesse takes some water and gently squirts some at the more matted sections of fur that look like it could be hiding an injury. The kitten cries out so he holds the poor thing down with his flesh hand so as to not scare it with his metal one. Once it’s adequately spritzed, Jesse takes the alcohol wipes to dab at the cuts though infection is probably what gave the kitten its fever. Once the cuts are tended to, the cowboy sees to its eye, trying to figure out if it was from infection or from something else. A scar dragging vertically down over its eye tells him it was probably cut out. For the sake of believing in people, he hopes it was snagged on a stray bush branch while it was scurrying around. For the sake of the kitten, he hopes a human cut it out as that would probably be less painful.

Once the kitten is treated, the gunslinger carefully dries it off with one of the hand towels, then wraps it up in a swath wrap with the other. The kitten purrs happily now surrounded by warmth and Jesse is only happy his mother’s words chose now to come to him.

_ Feed a fever, starve a cold. _

He takes the poor kitten into the kitchen to feed it and get it some milk. Using the metal tray from the med bay, he pours a small serving of milk into it and sets it in front of the kitten to eat. It happily does so while he rummages through the kitchen for food. It seems like they’re out of eggs--he supposes he’ll buy some more once the stores open up on the 26th--so he prays to any god out there that will listen that Hanzo won’t come back from Japan until Jesse has a chance to replace the fish he takes. Not wanting to feed it raw to the kitten but also not wanting to use any oils or spices on the fish, he does his best to bake the fish in the oven, watching it bubble occasionally from pockets of fat filling with air. Once it seems cooked enough, he takes it out and sets it to cool for a moment before setting it in front of the kitten. It eats happily, grey fur mixed with white milk and pink fish. Jesse laughs to himself as he sits next to it, resting his head in the crook of his arm on the table.

The cat eats away happily, not noticing the inner turmoil that still plagues Jesse’s mind. He reaches out with his flesh hand and gently rubs the kitten’s back with two fingers while it eats. The poor thing must have been starving because it doesn’t stop eating through it all. The cowboy gives a wry smile and lets his vision blur with tears.

“You an’ I are the same, huh? No one wants us around this Christmas time. We don’t belong no where.” The kitten ignores his words for food which causes Jesse to just laugh. “I’m even being ignored by a fucking cat. Jesus… Alright, eat up, eat up. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot.” Jesse watches the cat eat, eventually tiring of running his fingers over its back. At some point, his hand falls to its side, then grabs the towel, then somewhere near the end of the kitten’s meal, he pulls it closer to his face. The kitten mewls for a moment before settling in, seemingly pleased with how warm the arrangement is. Jesse starts humming and it isn’t until he can feel his consciousness drift from him that he realizes it’s a sad Johnny Cash song he’s humming. Hey, at least it’s a Christmas song.

* * *

Warm arms wrap around Jesse gently, stirring him slightly. The cowboy relaxes into the warmth on his back though there are awkward pockets here and there where it doesn’t feel real, like an approximation of what it would feel like to be held lovingly. Rather than questioning it and ruining the dream he must be having, Jesse shrugs off any worries and moves closer to the warmth that feels suspiciously like the desert sun on his back. The movement must have alerted his partner that he’s “awake” as a warm hand starts to drift up his side. The touch is more reverent and familiar than it is trying to start up something steamy. Eventually, the hand settles on his cheek, fingers playing with the scruff of his beard. A satisfied sigh escapes Jesse’s lips before he can stop it. A familiar chuckle rumbles behind him as the hand starts to sweep some of his unruly bangs out of his face.

Eventually, Jesse turns and rests his head on a soft expanse of flesh--which feels oddly like his own arm rather than the broad tattooed chest he sees before him--and wraps his arms around his lover. He smiles sleepily up at Hanzo and savors the absolute serenity on the archer’s face. Somewhere he recognizes it as a look not unsimilar to when he is shooting his bow, absolutely clam and content in the act of familiarity.

“G’mornin’, sugar. What time’s it?” Jesse asks, his tongue heavy from sleep. Hanzo chuckles, amused, and brushes his fingers lovingly over Jesse’s cheek again.

“If I had to guess, I would say somewhere around half past ten,” the soothing rumble of Hanzo’s voice is the most relaxing Jesse has ever heard it in his life. It makes him shiver a little before he realizes what the archer actually said.

“What? Don’t you usually wake up at like 6 to do trainin’ ‘n stuff?”

“Oh, Jesse.” The sound of his name is a bit weird before the gunslinger realizes that Hanzo hasn’t called him by name outside the heat of battle or without being drunk. The archer chuckles and pulls Jesse up for a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “There are no missions or trainings scheduled today. We have all the time in the world, so I just want to spend it with you. I want to enjoy you today. I want you.”

Jesse blinks and is startled by the sincerity of Hanzo’s voice, by what was just spoken to him. He can feel his throat close up and his eyes start to burn like he’s going to start crying, but the him in the dream seems completely unaffected. “You want me?” Hanzo rolls his eyes but the overall mood stays light.

“Yes, I want you, Jesse McCree.”

The cowboy shivers and buries himself further into the embrace. He tries hard not to think about the fact that this is a dream. He tries not to remember that this isn’t real. He tries not to think about how this will never happen and how no one will ever want him, will ever love him the way he wants to be loved. By the way he can feel the warmth around him dissipate he knows he’s failed. Soon the loving warmth that surrounded him turns into an overwhelming lonely coldness that chills him to the core. He shivers once more and curls further into himself.

_ You are alone and you always will be, Jesse McCree. Who could possibly love a wretch like you? _

Jesse shakes his head, feeling the tears flow freely now. Desperately he tries to recall the warmth from earlier, tries to remember what it feels like to be loved only to realize that no one has ever loved him.

_ This barren wasteland is where you belong. You don’t deserve love! You will never be loved! _

The cowboy tries to deny it. He tries to think of anything beyond the cold barren darkness he’s found himself in, but there is no escape. Every turn takes him further in. Every second spent he feels colder and colder. Every desperate shout echos in his isolation. Every harsh word lingering in the depths of his mind crumbles his heart a little more. Finally, Jesse collapses and gives into the cold darkness swirling about him. He clutches at his throbbing head as he lies alone, tears streaming down his face.

“Please, I can’t take no more. I just… I just want to be wanted.”

_ Look around you, Jesse. No one wants you. If they did, you wouldn’t be all alone. If you were wanted, you wouldn’t have been left behind _

They all got good reasons, the desperate part of Jesse’s mind argues. Despite knowing having hope will only hurt more in the end when it’s crushed, he still hopes.

_ That’s what you tell yourself anyways. Why are you defending them? They left you, Jesse. They don’t care about you. _

That’s not true!

_ What makes you say that? _

‘Cause if it were… if it were I’d know, wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t be at Gibraltar if they didn’t care.

_ They could be using you… Like Reyes did. You haven’t forgotten him have you? _

The desperate hope is silenced.

_ Face the truth. No one cares about you. No one wants you. You don’t belong anywhere. You will always be alone. _

Jesse shivers further into the darkness, the cold surrounding him becoming numb. He can feel his heart start to numb away the aching pain as well. Just as he starts to accept the cold isolation, he can hear his name being called, though faintly. It happens again and the desperate hope inside the cowboy bursts free. It’s not quite warm, but no longer is everything numb.

“Jesse!”

Jesse blinks his eyes open. He’s still in the kitchen, wrapped around the kitten he found. The little guy seems to still be sleeping, curled tightly in the hand towel Jesse had provided. There’s a warmth on his arm slightly above where his head is resting, so he turns to see a hand perched there. Sitting upright, Jesse is startled to see a frantic looking Hanzo standing before him, concern apparent in his eyes.

“Hanzo? What’re you doin’ here? I didn’t sleep through Christmas, did I?” Jesse jokes. Just pretend that everything is normal and you’ll be fine. You can’t ruin his progress with your selfishness.

The archer frowns, a pain down turning his eyes. “You’ve been crying.” It wasn’t a question. Jesse gasps and reaches up to his face to feel tears still flowing down his cheeks. He swears and rubs at them furiously.

“Sorry, darlin’. I musta been havin’ a nightmare. Guess it’s a good thing you woke me when ya did ‘else I mighta accidentally hurt you.” Jesse’s cheeks flame with embarrassment. He’s a 41 year old man getting caught crying alone in a kitchen on Christmas Eve. He’s probably gone and ruined Hanzo’s holiday plans now.

_ This is why no one will ever love you. _

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo says instead of any number of mocking or inflammatory words he could have used. Jesse blinks.

“Huh? What’re ya apologizin’ for? Ain’t your fault I get nightmares, you knew that. ‘Sides, I thought you were supposed to be in Japan? What happened?” Instead of answering, Hanzo reaches out with one hand to gently swipe at the tear trails on Jesse’s cheeks with a thumb. The cowboy freezes, unsure where this sudden display of affection is coming from but unsure if he wants it to stop. It isn’t until both of Hanzo’s hands are on his face that he speaks up. “Hanzo?”

“My brother kindly told me that I was being a ‘big stupid idiot’ and now I can see that he was right.” Hanzo pulls him into a hug, leaving Jesse stupefied. He doesn’t even return the hug by wrapping his arms around the archer.

“What? What’s you bein’ an idiot gotta do with you not bein’ in Japan?” Hanzo sighs and pulls away enough to make eye contact.

“Because, I’ve come to realize that my brother and I will always have each other. So long as we each live, there will be opportunities for us to bond. Such is family. But I will be a damned fool if I go off to enjoy myself while letting the man I love suffer alone and question his self-worth,” Hanzo says smoothly, never breaking eye contact for even a moment. Jesse is blown away by the confidence with which those lines were delivered before he registers fully what was said. His cheeks flare up again in realization, the desperate hope from before sparking into the beginning of warmth.

“What? Hanzo, you...?”

“Yes. I love you, Jesse McCree, and I’m sorry that I made you feel otherwise. I hope I can make it up to you during Christmas tomorrow… though technically midnight is only 12 minutes away.” The familiar wry smile and glimmer in Hanzo’s brown eyes tells Jesse this is real, not a dream, but the darkness shouts at him that that’s all this is.

“You love me? But I’m a killer,” Jesse stammers.

“As am I.”

“I ain’t a good person.”

“I don’t agree with that sentiment.”

“I ain’t an easy person to be in a relationship with.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Ya sure ya ain’t just been tricked? You wouldn’t love me if you knew the real me. There’s a reason I ain’t got no one around me after all.” Hanzo’s eyes harden as does his grip on Jesse’s shoulders.

“You are a good man, Jesse McCree whether you believe it or not. I will not stand here and listen to this slander, nor will I allow you to squander my feelings so. I see you for who you are and love you regardless. I want you, Jesse. I don’t want anything or anyone else but you”

Jesse lets the tears fall from his eyes again as he pulls Hanzo back into a tight hug. He feels the hope bubbling over into happiness as for the first time, he feels like someone cares. For the first time, he feels like he might actually belong in Gibraltar and all those things that sounded like desperate excuses might actually be the truth and he has finally found a place with Overwatch. All he ever wanted was for someone to want him, and as the clock strikes twelve midnight on his 41st Christmas, he thinks he’s finally found someone to love him.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp that's it for this oneshot. I should hopefully kick myself into gear to update one of my other works, but we'll see


End file.
